


mime under arrest

by spideynamu



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Parent Tony Stark, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, for like two seconds though - Freeform, i've never been stabbed before so it might be inaccurate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-09 02:13:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20845847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spideynamu/pseuds/spideynamu
Summary: “Mr. Mime, please, can't we just do this the easy way?”The mime shook his head, eyebrows furrowed as he flipped Peter off for the—second? third?—time already.Random remarks raced through his head, think Parker think, what are you supposed to say to an angry mime?He panicked and chose the first phrase off his mind.“Mr. Mime, you now have the right to remain silent.” he blurted out, which okay, was probably not the best decision considering the deadpan expression the mime had adopted.





	mime under arrest

**Author's Note:**

> okay i watched detective pikachu one time and with the power of my gen-z humor, it gave me this. also i don't know where the cat came from, but it's spooky season so we'll go with that. i don't know anything about getting stabbed except for the five minute google search i did woohoo!

Peter had defeated multiple villains throughout his career of being Spider-Man; one time there was this guy with a fish bowl for a helmet and there was also this doctor who liked octopuses for whatever reason. 

Yet nobody had the decency to tell him what to do when a mime of all people was trying to rob a bank—or at least that’s what Peter was hoping the mime was attempting because the gasoline and box of matches next to him did not look promising.

Oh great, he’s a _kleptomaniac_ and a _pyromaniac_, this was the perfect way to end patrol. 

Everything had been going fine so far, Peter helped a few old ladies across the street and he also helped two kids find their lost pets—he got to pet two dogs _and_ a cat!

Which also really made him want a pet but he could already hear May’s, _Sorry, baby, you know the rules here._

Maybe he could ask Mr. Stark, or ask Mr. Rhodey to ask for him as a favor because he never told Mr. Stark about him eating the last blueberry muffin last week.

“Peter, the mime seems to be getting more aggravated by the minute, I suggest you hurry,” Karen murmured and oh yeah, angry mime.

Peter scanned the surroundings, double checking that all civilians were nowhere near the sight and for any stray animals. There weren’t any that he could spot, except—wait a minute why was the mime holding a black cat?

Man, Ned wasn’t kidding when he said it was spooky season and Michelle—MJ definitely would’ve told him that black cats were only known as bad luck because of judgmental humans and that they were perceived wrongly and deserved better.

This wouldn’t do, even Doc Ock had been well mannered enough to know that he shouldn’t bring an octopus to a fight.

“Mr. Mime, hey, can you at least put the cat down?” he asked politely, hoping he didn’t get too offended that Peter wasn’t fluent in mime language.

English and Spanish could only get you so far in life, man.

The mime stared at him, a flurry of agitated hand gestures in the air as he explained whatever his crazy plan was. Peter didn’t understand a single word—gesture?—that the mime said but at least the cat was far away from the scene now.

He did however, understand each time the mime had flipped him off, which wasn’t exactly cash money of him. 

Okay, think Peter, how does one take down a mime that seemed one move from committing a robbery, arson, or even worse, _both_.

“Mr. Mime, please, can't we just do this the easy way?” 

The mime shook his head, eyebrows furrowed as he flipped Peter off for the—third? fourth?—time already.

Random remarks raced through his head, think Parker think, what are you supposed to say to an angry mime? 

He panicked and chose the first phrase off his mind.

“Mr. Mime, you now have the right to remain silent.” he blurted out, which okay, was probably not the best decision considering the deadpan expression the mime had adopted.

Now that he looked at the mime, he looked like the perfect replica of that one Jerry meme, what was it Ned had sent him, the Polish Jerry meme? Wait, not the right time, he still had to stop the mime. 

“Hey, hey, sir, Mr. Mime, sir, please this bank did nothing to you!”

Apparently that was _not_ the right answer because the man just grabbed the scarlet container of gasoline, violently yanked off the cap and started pouring the liquid around the perimeter of the bank.

The mine threw his head back once the container emptied, shoulders shaking in what seemed like a laugh, and holy shit he was the perfect embodiment of Peter’s sleep paralysis demon.

Okay, surroundings—there weren’t any civilians in sight, the cat was out of harm’s way, it was just him and the mime. The bank was surrounded by gasoline and all it would take was a match so—oh yeah he had webs.

He swiftly shot a string towards the box of matches, catching them easily before discarding them off to the side, _away from the murderous mime_ and yanking away the bags of money the mime had obtained before he chose a career of arson.

_Be a superhero they said, it’ll be fun they said, why are you crying on the floor they said. _

If he planned this correctly, all he had to do was web the mime towards him in the direction of the wall and bam problem solved, no more crazy mime in Queens. 

“Hey Karen, switch to taser webs just in case he tries something mimey, taze him only if I tell you too, okay?”

The A.I. hummed an affirmative and he aimed his wrists with ease, _twhip_ two strands of webbing shot from his wrists and towards the mime’s legs.

That was his first mistake.

You know, he’d like to say that the plan was really well thought out even though he was under pressure (who the hell robs a bank as a mime) and he liked to think it actually would’ve worked out except _oh shit, that’s a knife in his hand._

Aww man, Mr. Stark was going to kill him and May would bring him back to life just to kill him again.

Apparently spider senses didn’t work well under stress (Peter knew this, but that didn’t mean he wanted to fully acknowledge it), and because of that there was a knife in his leg but hey, no biggie, Spider-Man heals.

He quickly webbed the mine up to the nearest available wall, glaring at him through the mask.

“You know, stabbing anyone isn’t very nice, Mr. Mime.”

The mime just stared at him and _was that a smirk on his face?_

He waited the few minutes for the police to show up, and Peter could’ve sworn he heard one cop say something about it being only the first day of October and another say _ why are people dressing up like clowns already?_

The mime didn’t take kindly to being called a clown, and he flipped off the police officer that had offended him. 

As the adrenaline of today’s patrol finally wore down, Peter noticed two things.

That poor black cat was still sitting in the tree it had fled to and _ow_ his leg really hurt, and _woah_ he was kind of dizzy.

Just a little though.

Oh yeah, the mime threw a knife into his thigh, which was definitely not ideal.

“Hey Karen, what do I do about the knife?” he asked quietly as he gently tried coaxing the cat out of the tree, its dark fur blending in with the quickly darkening sky.

“I suggest you head over to Mr. Stark’s, Peter,” she answered patiently, and that was definitely out of the plan, he couldn’t bother Mr. Stark.

Finally, the cat started down the tree, glancing at Peter curiously. Peter would’ve done anything to carry the cat but he was pretty sure Knife Safety 101 stated that was a bad idea.

Knife Safety 101 was also designed to keep these things from happening too, but hey, you should never worry about a knife-throwing mime. 

He was pretty sure the Kitty agreed with his thoughts, if the soft meow he received had to do with anything.

“Hey kitty, down here!” he crooned, grinning in victory when the cat managed to land safely into his arms.

He winced, remembering the knife still in his leg.

“Are you sure I can’t just pull it out Karen? It can’t be that bad right, I heal fast,” he countered, instinctively putting on his best puppy dog eyes.

“Peter, I don’t think that’s wise, let me call Mr. Stark,” she insisted, and could AI’s do that?

Looking back, Peter would’ve definitely remembered Mr. Stark telling him to never pull a knife out from the stab wound, but this Peter really didn’t like that his leg was hurting and you only live once right?

The knife was out and woah okay the world should not look like that.

That was a big mistake.  
__

When Peter woke up, the first thing his eyes noticed was that the lights were really, really bright. 

Apparently, whoever was with him heard that too because the lights immediately dimmed to a more comfortable setting.

He leaned back down onto wow, this pillow was really soft and these bed sheets looked really familiar.

Oh yeah, they were in his bedroom at the Tower.

“So, Pete, what brings you to my humble abode?” a voice drawled to his right, and why did he recognize it? 

Oh yeah, that was Mr. Stark and that was a very good question, why was he here?

There was a crazy mime, a knife, and hey, where was the cat?

“Mista Star? Cat?” he slurred, a snort erupting from the man beside him, though when Peter looked up he could see the concern in his grimace.

Damn it, the only thing worse than having May worrying over him was having Mr. Stark worry over him.

“Right here kid,” he answered, lifting the cat up from his lap, eyebrow raised at him.

Peter lazily reached out to the cat, giggling when it rubbed its head against his hand, low purr filling the room. 

He looked back up to Mr. Stark, who seemed to be feigning disinterest but Peter could see the small twitch of his lips.

“You wanna tell me why I got an alert from Karen telling me my kid was _stabbed_ and _unconscious_?” the genius gritted through his teeth.

_My kid._

That was new, but Peter wasn’t going to stop it either.

That familiar weight of guilt back settled into his stomach and stabbing (he really should stop getting stabbed) his weary heart.

He reached out for Tony’s hand, relief spread through him when Mr. Stark grabbed his in return, holding it tightly.

“I’m really sorry, Mr. Stark, honest,” he started, “there—there was this mime, and he had a knife? I didn’t see it! He was gonna burn down the bank, Mr. Stark! And I couldn’t leave the cat either!”

He took a breath, waiting for the genius’ answer.

“I—I know kid, you did good too, but Jesus, Pete what did I tell you to _never_ do with a stab wound?”

This time Peter looked down at his Star Wars blanket, avoiding Mr. Stark’s intent gaze as he wrung his hands together.

“Don’t pull the knife out,” he muttered, unconsciously leaning into the man’s side as his hands combed through his curls.

“Next time, just— just call me okay? Make this easier for the both of us Spider-Boy.”

And maybe it was how tired Peter was, or how long his day had been (Flash had been more of an asshole than usual today), he couldn’t stop the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes.

“Hey, hey, Bambi eyes, don’t do that,” the man murmured, and Peter glanced up, noticing the man’s eyes soften.

“Pepper was right, Spider-Baby, your eyes can really weaken an old man’s heart.”

Peter rolled his eyes, though he didn’t try to hide the small smile that made its way onto his face, and Peter laughed when he saw his new cat friend climb onto him.

“Hey, Mr. Stark, can we keep him?” the Spiderling pleaded, pulling the small feline closer to him.

“No, absolutely not—”

Tony knew he made a mistake when he looked back down at the kid, puppy dog eyes shamelessly on display.

Fucking Parkers.

“If he shits anywhere, I swear to— oof!” Peter cut the genius off as he threw himself into his arms.

Stupid kid, this was extortion.

“Thank you, thank you, Mr. Stark!” he gushed, and Tony felt his heart warm.

He waved him off, but he couldn’t help the tender smile as he looked down at the kid and the cat in his arms.

Peter suddenly looked up, a flash of _something_ in his eyes and Tony could already feel his blood pressure rising.

“Mr. Stark, what does a mime say when they get arrested?”

Don’t answer, it’s a trap, he’ll say something stupid and yet Tony already felt himself answering.

“What?”

Peter looked at him so proudly, he would’ve felt bad if he didn’t laugh for him.

“Mime under arrest!”

Okay, maybe it was a little bit funny, but right now his nerdy kid needed some sleep to help his little Spidey immune system.

“Ha, funny kid, hey why don’t you sleep? You know, because you were _stabbed.”_

A yawn escaped the kid as soon as he finished his sentence, nodding slowly and already leaning back onto his pillows. The cat (they really needed to name him) was resting comfortably on top of the kid.

Maybe the sight was a little heartwarming, and maybe he was a bit whipped for letting the kid keep the cat, but what can you do?

“FRI, send a picture of them to May and Pep, maybe Rhodey too.”

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are highly appreciated!
> 
> reviews and criticism are appreciated as well.
> 
> thank you so much for reading <3000


End file.
